


You're Only as Old as You Feel

by Tseecka



Category: Primeval
Genre: Birthday, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:59:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1845181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tseecka/pseuds/Tseecka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-series fic -- Nick hates his birthday. Stephen wants him to celebrate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Only as Old as You Feel

Nick shook his head emphatically, glaring at Stephen. "No, I told you. No parties. No streamers, no balloons, no cake."

Stephen sighed, casting his eyes around the cluttered office. "Oh, come on, Nick! It's your birthday, and we'll both actually be on campus--how often does that happen?!"

Nick gave him a glare as he flipped over half the pile of papers and started scanning through the next half, red pen at the ready. "The answer to that question is once a year, Stephen. Which is far too many." He was silently regretting having declined the invitation to speak at the week-long seminar in Brazil. He did hate speaking, but he hated his own birthday even more. 

His aide rolled his eyes and took the finished stack from Cutter, going through and adding his own comments to each of the papers. "Fine, fine," he grumbled, obviously upset. Nick almost felt badly.   
  
"I hate birthdays, Stephen. I hate being reminded of how old I'm getting. And having you hanging around doesn't help much, either."  
  
Stephen shook his head and muttered under his breath, "You're only as old as you feel."  
  
Nick didn't glorify that with a response. 

They sat in a tense but companionable silence, paper rustling and pens scratching, for a good ten minutes before Nick even heard it. Stephen resolutely kept his eyes on the desk, avoiding looking up at all, as Nick stared at the top of his head. Getting no response, his eyes glanced to the door of the office. 

The sound grew louder. 

"What have you done?" Nick's strained whisper was hoarse, terrified, and utterly adorable, Stephen thought privately. He looked up with the best innocent expression he could muster, eyes wide and mouth gaping slightly. 

"What are you talking about?" he asked mildly. 

Without another word, Nick pushed his chair away from the table and strode to the door, hesitating a moment before throwing it open. He stepped through into the lecture hall, and stopped dead. 

"Happy birthday to you~"

The room was decorated in streamers, balloons, banners, and all other manner of stupid colorful products. Students and faculty members, mostly from the department, filled every seat, lined the walls, and milled about aimlessly on the floor. 

In the center of the room, someone had managed to fashion a gigantic cake shaped and molded and decorated to look like a fairly accurate smilodon skull. 

Nick spun around to glare at Stephen, who was now sitting with his feet up on the desk and a blindingly happy smile on his face. Or maybe self-satisfied smirk would be more accurate...

"Happy Birthday, Nick." 

Somehow, Nick couldn't find it in his heart to be angry.  


End file.
